


Cosplay With Me V1

by Russica



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 13:29:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Russica/pseuds/Russica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when America discovers the joys of cosplaying? He goes and plays with Russia of course.<br/>(T for language, flirting, and very mild violence.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cosplay With Me V1

**Author's Note:**

> The Russian phrases are as follows:  
> "Allo Amerika." (Hello America)  
> "Za druzhbu mezhdu narodami." (For friendship between peoples.)  
> "Nyet" (No)  
> "Spokoynoy nochi." (Good night.)

"Come on Iggy!” he begged.   
“Absolutely not!” screamed the annoyed Brit.  
“But-“  
“No buts. I’m not degrading myself just for your amusement.”  
“But-“   
“NO!” he pushed the man to the door. “This is our one day off before a week of world meetings and I plan to enjoy every moment of it; why don’t you go play with Russia or something?”  
America huffed.  
“Fine. Maybe I will.”  
England seemed stunned. America gave him a big smile and marched out the door, closing it triumphantly behind him.  
Ha, I totally got him. But now I gotta go hang with the stupid commie. He sighed audibly before pulling out his phone.  
He tapped his foot impatiently.  
“Aлло, Америка.”  
“Yo commie, can I come over?”  
There was a long pause.  
“You want to come over? To my house?” he asked skeptically.  
“Yeah man, totally.”  
“Why?”  
“I’ve got this totally awesome game type dealio I wanna play and England’s being a douche.”  
“A game?”  
“Yupperooni.”  
Russia giggled.  
“I love games,” there was poison in his tone. “Come on over.”  
“Uh cool! See ya in a bit.”  
As he hung up his stomach flipped. He had a bad feeling about going over, but getting England back was just too good to resist. He laughed as hopped into his car and sped home.

\---------------------------------------------------One Plane Ride Later------------------------------------------------------------

America’s teeth chattered as he banged on Russia’s door.  
“C-come on a-and open the d-door stupid c-commie,” he muttered as he pounded on the door again.  
It was opened by the purple eyed man.  
“Come in Amerika.”  
“Dude, say my name right,” he grumbled.  
Russia simply smiled as America walked past him with a large American flag suitcase. He walked into the living room and plopped it down on the couch.  
“What game are we to be playing?”  
America smiled and unzipped his suitcase.  
“So I’ve totally been hangin with my homie Japan and I found this wicked anime.”  
He leaned towards Russia conspiratorially.  
“That’s a fancy word for a comic turned TV show.”  
“Sill pig, I know what anime is,” he giggled. “Which one?”  
“Well, you communist scumbag, it’s one that totally fits my ideals.”  
“Eating and sleeping?” Russia asked innocently.  
“No, asshole,” he glared at the smiling man. “It’s a story about a hero with a righteous cause, just like me.”  
America grinned, daring the man to guess. Russia didn’t miss a beat.  
“DeathNote.”  
America's smile crashed.  
“How’d you guess?”  
“Light and L both fight for a ‘righteous cause’,” he shook his head. “Made it too easy Amerika.”  
“Way to bum me out man,” he pouted.  
“Game?”  
“Oh yeah! I wanna RP DeathNote but no one else wants to… So here I am.”  
Russia rolled his eyes.  
“Who will I be?” (As if he didn’t know.)  
“Well me and L are both heroes so I’ll be him,” he pulled out a bundle of clothes. “Since Light is evil, and you’re a communist, you can be him.”  
As he ran off to change he turned back:  
“I have no idea what size clothes you wear dude but there’s a bunch of em in there.”  
Russia looked in the suitcase, picked it up, and headed to his room.

 

When America returned, Russia had on Light’s suit and a Deathnote in his lap. As much as he hated to admit it, Russia looked… good. He wore a brown wig, some of the hair covering his eyes; his light brown jacket was open, revealing the white shirt underneath which clung to his skin. Russia smiled at Americas’ expression. While the man was openly gawking Russia took the moment to do the same. America could pull off the baggy shirt and jeans look. He even had a scruffy black wig on and contacts in.  
“Awesome dude,” America laughed nervously.  
Russia smiled at the compliment.  
“Your L outfit is very nice as well.” ‘Although you are much cuter with glasses.’  
America rubbed the back of his head and mumbled a thank you.   
“As L and Light, must shake hands like pretend partners da?” he asked as he stood casually with his left hand behind his back.  
America nodded and the two shook hands. Suddenly, Russia's’ grip tightened and before America could react, Russias’ left hand had whipped out at his hand. America forced his hand out of the mans’ grip and jumped back. Upon his right wrist was a shine metal cuff. His stomach flipped as Russia moved in closer.  
“I love DeathNote, especially when they are chained together,” Russia stepped even closer.

 

With his personal space so clearly violated, America did what any good L would do: he kicked ‘Light’. Russia stumbled backwards, pulling America with him. He punched America hard in the face and sent them flying the other way. He tripped and Russia fell on top of him. Russia threw another punch but hit the floor. America slammed his knee into the mans’ groin and shoved him off. He grunted as he hit the floor and America was pulled on top of him. He growled, and with flexibility you wouldn’t expect from such a big man, threw America over his head and flipped himself on top of the panting man.  
“I will teach you NOT to hit me,” he growled angrily.  
“I didn’t ‘hit’ you,” America growled as he yanked his arm back.  
Russia face planted the floor and America backed out from under him. Russia's’ arm was yanked back, he groaned as he was flipped on to his back.   
“I kicked you.”  
Russia radiated purple as he stood to face America. He threw his arm back; America stumbled forward, his face connecting with Russias’ fist. America fell to the floor, finding himself pinned under Russia yet again. The two growled fiercely. America slammed his fist into the bigger mans’ face. He delivered a swift kick to Americas’ ribs as he rolled off the man. America gasped as he was sent into the side of a table. He cursed as he pulled his arm forward. Russia was sent head first into the same table. He ‘kol’ed as he stood and violently yanked America up with him. America gasped as stars flew behind his eyes. Russia smiled cruelly. He pulled America forward and kneed him in the groin. As America fell, he pulled him up and threw him face first into the wall. America turned as he slumped down the wall.  
“Fuck you,” he mumbled.  
He grunted as he pulled his arm back causing Russia to also hit the wall face first. Russia groaned as he turned to sit beside America. The two sat there panting. America threw his wig off and ran his arm across his forehead. Russia giggled as he pulled off his own wig.  
“What?” America scowled.  
“This is fun game,” he smiled happily.  
America stared blankly for a moment before smiling.  
Yeah, it is.”  
Russia pulled a small key from his pocket and unlocked their cuffs. The two immediately began rubbing their sore wrists.  
“Damn those cuffs hurt like hell.”  
Russia nodded as he stood and offered America a hand. The man accepted and pulled himself up with a groan. He rubbed his right shoulder.  
“Will be right back.”  
America shrugged as the man left. He continued rubbing his shoulder as he surveyed the rooms’ damage.

 

Papers from the table were scattered across the floor, a lamp had fallen over, and some books had fallen from a small bookshelf. America was placing one of the books back on the shelf when Russia returned. He gave the man a confused look. America smiled.  
“Iggy was really uptight about books when I was little,” he looked at the book with a sad sort of smile. “Guess it became a habit of mine.”  
Russia nodded as he placed a first aid kit on the table and sat down. He patted the seat next to him. He smiled when America came over and sat, although hesitantly, beside him.  
“Look at me.”  
America did and a small light was shined into his eyes.  
“Ah, what the fuck man?!” he yelled as he tried to shield his eyes.  
“Checking for concussion.”  
America forced himself to be still. Satisfied that there was no serious damage he put away the light.  
“Turn.”  
“Why?” America asked skeptically.  
“Want to check head for any damage.”  
He did what he was told. Russia gently prodded at the mans’ head. America groaned as Russia found a small bump on the back of his head. Russia smiled.  
“A single bump, I think you will live.”  
America turned back to face the man. Russia hummed as he surveyed the damage.  
“Your cheek will have a bruise,” he gently prodded just below the mans’ right eye.  
America moved away with a curse.  
“And a black eye. Would suggest getting those contacts out.”  
America tenderly touched his eye and nodded. He stood and left the room. When he returned Russia had some things laid out on the table; alcohol pads, gauze, band aids, and packs of sterilized cloths.  
“Will need you to remove shirt now.”  
America gave him a blank stare.  
“What?”  
Russia pointed to his cut forehead.  
“You hit the table too, will need to clean wound.”  
America huffed as he turned and slipped off his shirt. He cursed as the cold air hit his bare skin.  
“Why’s it gotta be so damn cold in here? You commies against warmth or something?”  
Russia shook his head.  
“Turn this way.”  
America turned. Russia scanned his eyes over the mans’ torso, noting each injury. America looked around uncomfortably as the man continued to stare at him. Russia reached out and traced the mans’ ribs on his right side. He winced. Russia smiled.  
“Not to worry,” he began as he turned to the table, “just bruised, not fractured.”  
America opened and closed his mouth, deciding not to question how he knew.  
Russia turned and handed America a thick wad of gauze then grabbed his right arm.  
“What’s this for?”  
“Bite down on it.”  
“Uh…. Okay…”  
Puzzled as he was, he did what he was told.  
“One, Two, Three.”  
With that he slammed Americas’ arm back into its socket. Americas’ eyes rolled back as he ground down on the gauze. Fireworks burst in his vision as white hot pain ran up his arm. Russia gave him a smile before grabbing something else from the table.  
“Turn other way now.”  
America blinked away the spots in his eyes and managed to turn. He pulled the gauze out of his mouth as he rolled his shoulder.  
“Man that hurts,” he groaned.  
Russia hummed in agreement as examined the mans’ left side. A small spot of blood had soaked through his pants.  
“Are bleeding.”  
America twisted to try and see.  
“Dude, that table was freakin sharp!”  
He looked up to find Russia staring at him curiously.  
“What dude?”  
“Need you to remove pants.”  
Blood rushed to his face. Russia placed a hand on Americas’ shoulder.  
“Am only trying to help.”  
America saw the hurt in his eyes even though his smile remained in place. He sighed.  
“Alright,” he mumbled.  
Russia perked up and slipped an arm around Americas’ torso.  
“Woah what the fuck dude?!”  
“Do not want you to hurt your arm.”  
America relaxed a bit and allowed the man to help him. (Not that he needed help of course.) He reached down to find Russia watching him.  
“I know I’m one hot hero, but could you stop staring at me like a weirdo.”  
Russia giggled as he covered his eyes with his hands. America rolled his eyes.  
“No peeking,” he smirked.  
He ignored the mans’ giggle fit and quickly removed his pants. He sat back down and crossed his arms uncomfortably.  
“Can I ‘peek’ now?”  
“Just hurry up, I’m freezing my ass off.”  
Russia moved his hands and grabbed a cloth.  
“Am going to wipe away blood.”  
America nodded. Russia carefully wiped away the blood but couldn’t find the cut.  
“Hmmm,” he scanned the visible skin but saw nothing.  
“What?”  
“Do not see cut,” he said quietly. “Just tell me when it hurts, da?”  
“Gotcha.”  
Russia prodded gently at the side of Americas’ stomach. He moved slowly until he reached the top of his boxers. He hesitated only a moment before prodding at the waist band then right below it. America inhaled sharply.  
“Hmm is in awkward spot.”  
America nodded, not looking at Russia.  
“Eh, can I…”  
“Just hurry up and get it over with.”  
“Still have gauze?”  
America nodded.  
“May want to be keeping it close.”  
America put it in his mouth and gave Russia a thumbs up. He felt his face redden as Russia rolled down his boxers until the cut was fully visible. He carefully wiped blood away from around the wound. He ripped open an alcohol pad.  
“Ready?”  
He nodded.  
Russia quickly pressed the pad to the cut. America groaned loudly into the gauze and tried to move away. Russia wrapped his arm around Americas’ chest to hold him still. Russia held him tightly as he began to clean the cut. America growled and squirmed in pain. His hands had involuntarily grabbed on to the others’ arm. Russia hissed as Americas’ nails dug in to his arm. He removed the alcohol pad and cool air stung at the cut. America spat out the gauze.  
“Mother fucker!”

 

Russia ignored him and grabbed a large bandage. Americas’ nails continued to dig in to his arm.  
He smoothed down the bandage and smiled.  
“Done.”  
America let out a sigh of relief.   
“That wasn’t so bad,” he laughed.  
Russia leaned down to his ear.  
“Then why are your nails still buried in my arm?” he whispered.  
America quickly let go and gave a nervous laugh.  
“Eh, sorry dude.”  
“You are big baby,” he snickered as he rubbed his arm.  
“Nuh uh,” America pouted.  
Russia laughed as he stood and went to the kitchen. America stuck his tongue out at him before getting dressed and following him. Russia poured himself a shot of vodka and raised it.  
“За дружбу между народами.”  
He drank it in one go. America cringed.  
“How can you drink that stuff?”  
Russia just smiled and poured another shot.  
“Want some?”  
“U, no thanks dude. Got any coke?”  
Russia thought for a moment before shrugging and gesturing to his fridge.  
“Feel free to look.”  
America leaned in to the large fridge and began rummaging. Russia smiled. America could feel the mans’ eyes on him. He wiggled his butt.  
“Enjoying the view?”  
Russia almost choked on his drink. He forced himself to swallow before going into a fit of coughing, America stood with a coke in his hand. He popped the top.  
“Shoulda taken a pic, woulda lasted longer,” he laughed as Russia doubled over half coughing, half laughing. Russia leaned back against the counter and wiped away a tear. America smiled, maybe hangin with Russia wasn’t too bad.

 

Russia regained some of his composure and poured yet another shot. He sipped at the drink this time, his throat stinging more than usual from his coughing fit. The two drank their drinks in a comfortable silence. America glanced over at Russia.  
“Hey dude, your heads still bloody.”  
Russia paused and wiped his forehead. The blood on his forehead was slightly wet on his fingers. He rubbed his thumb in small circles on his index finger, smiling as the blood stuck. America stared transfixed for a moment. He cleared his throat.  
“I uh, I can take care of it.”  
Russia smiled as he turned on the sink and washed off his hand.  
“Alright.”  
America lead the way back to the living room. Russia sat beside him and patiently waited. America grabbed a new cloth, he moved the mans’ hair aside with one hand and gently cleaned away the blood with the other. He grabbed an alcohol pad and tore it open.   
“Ready dude?”  
Russia nodded. America quickly pressed it to the mans’ forehead. Russia sighed and closed his eyes, letting the pain run through him. America watched curiously as he cleaned the cut. Russia didn’t move and seemed to enjoy the pain. America grabbed a small bandage and smoothed it on.  
“Didn’t that hurt at all?”  
Russia could hear the hurt pride.   
“нет.”  
America blinked at him.  
“No,” Russia sighed.  
“Oh. Why didn’t you just say that?”  
Russia shook his head.  
“So, will be staying here tonight da?”  
“Uh,” America glanced towards the door. “I dunno.”  
He walked towards a window and peeked out.  
“Damn, that’s one hell of a storm.”  
He groaned loudly.  
“No way in hell I’m walking through that, I’ll risk staying the night with you if it means not going out in that.”  
“Will show you to your room,” he laughed as he grabbed Americas’ bag.  
America followed him upstairs. Russia opened a door and gestured for America to enter.

 

The room was small. It was painted a soft yellow and furnished with a small queen sized bed, a small side table with a lamp and a dresser. On the wall were various pictures; three children smiling, two girls picking flowers, a young boy wrapped in a scarf that was much too large, a girl in dirty clothes with a smiling face, and scattered pictures of sunflowers.  
“Is my favorite room,” he smiled as he placed the bag down.  
America glanced back at him. His eyes shone as he looked around the room.  
“Was my room when I was very little, back when we all got along.”  
America nodded. He placed a hand on Russia's shoulder.  
“Thanks.”  
Russia smiled and ruffled Americas’ hair.  
“спокойной ночи.”  
“Night.”  
“Hey!” he called as Russia walked toward his own room.  
Russia stopped and turned.  
“We should do that again sometime.”  
Russia grinned.  
“I would like that.”  
America walked into his room and closed the door. He quickly changed into his pjs, turned off the light, and crawled into bed. He placed Texas on the table and buried himself under the covers. The fluffy covers were incredibly warm. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He fell asleep in warmth, to the smell of snow.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there. Yes I am aware of how Russia is speaking, forgive me if it offends you. You'll find I often give him a heavier accent than the show, I like the idea that he is more Russian. Other than how he speaks I would appreciate feedback. Thanks guys.


End file.
